


Obvious

by aquileaofthelonelymountain



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Cultural Differences, Fluff, M/M, Shire AU, bagginshield, courtship rituals, parentshield, unexpected anniversary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 06:13:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14443098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquileaofthelonelymountain/pseuds/aquileaofthelonelymountain
Summary: It was exactly four years ago that Thorin had stood in the parlour of Bag End and had sung of his lost home, and today he was singing again.





	Obvious

**Author's Note:**

> Have a happy unexpected anniversary my fellow shippers - here's some fluff to celebrate ^-^

It was exactly four years ago that Thorin had stood in the parlour of Bag End and had sung of his lost home, and today he was singing again.

This time, however, he did not sing of dragon-fire and forgotten gold, and he wasn’t in the parlour either. Instead he was sitting in a bed that was much too small for him, leaning back against the headrest and singing a lullaby to the bundle he held in his arms.

From time to time a cough or a pitiful whine was heard from amidst those blankets, and then Thorin would interrupt his singing to utter some soothing noises as he rocked Frodo in his arms.

He and Bilbo had woken in the middle of the night to a coughing fit from their nephew’s room. The little hobbit already hadn’t felt well the day before, but had been quiet and sluggish. Thorin would have gone so far to call him moody – it was the truth, no matter how much he adored his tiny pebble. They had brought him to bed early, hoping that some sleep would help him to feel better the next day.

With a peck on Bilbo’s cheek, Thorin had told him to stay in bed and had gotten up himself to look after Frodo. The faunt had been tossing and turning in his bed. His forehead had felt feverish beneath Thorin’s palm, and his voice had been a mere croak when the dwarf had asked him if he wanted him to stay. His nod had been rather determined, though.

Thorin had only left to bring him a cup of warm honeyed milk before they had made themselves as comfortable as possible. He had cradled Frodo in his arms, and he had told him stories and had softly sung to him until both of them had dozed off. It had been a rather restless night for both of them, though. Frodo was often torn from sleep by another coughing fit or a sneeze, and then Thorin did his best to comfort him until both of them nodded off again.

Eventually night had passed, and Thorin had woken in the morning as a gentle kiss had been grazed on his forehead. “Go and get some proper rest, my dear”, Bilbo had told him with a smile. “But breakfast first, yes?” It had smelled deliciously of toast, scrambled eggs and fried bacon indeed. The scent, however, hadn’t been as delicious as the soft kiss that had been pressed to his lips.

“Happy anniversary, love”, Bilbo had mumbled against his lips before gathering Frodo in his arms and shooing his dwarf into the kitchen at the same time.

After breakfast, Thorin had gone to bed, but had only slept until midday. Now he was keeping watch over Frodo again while Bilbo was in the kitchen, preparing lunch for themselves and some soup for their nephew; Thorin could hear him rattling about with the pots.

“Your uncle Bilbo is making your favourite soup”, the dwarf tried to cheer Frodo up. “And there are scones left from breakfast.”

“I’m not hungry”, Frodo mumbled miserably. “I can’t smell or taste anything.”

“Try to take a few spoon nonetheless, will you?”

Frodo only hid his face deeper in the collar of Thorin’s shirt, and the dwarf gently patted his dark curls. Then he lowered his head and said quietly, almost conspiratorially: “You’re very brave, _ibinê_. You’re putting up with this better than your uncle Bilbo does when he’s got a cold. Have I told you of the terrible cold he had during our journey? He couldn’t even speak properly, but said things like ‘thag you very buch’.”

Usually stories of their adventure cheered Frodo up immediately, but this time he pressed his face harder against Thorin’s shoulder, almost as if he wanted to hide himself. “I’m sorry”, he muttered, his voice barely audible through the fabric.

“I know you were really looking forward to play with the Gamgees today, and to the sleepover.” He _knew_ that a faint blush appeared on his cheeks, and he couldn’t help it.

It hadn’t been his or Bilbo’s idea to begin with. It was the first anniversary they celebrated together since Thorin had settled down at Bag End, but they had decided to keep it simple and quiet: sleeping in, good food, maybe a nice walk; being together and enjoying each other’s presence. It had been Mrs Gamgee who had approached them and asked if Frodo could stay for a sleepover that special night. She hadn’t mentioned their anniversary, but had only remarked how well Frodo got along with their children, especially with Samwise, and how much fun a sleepover would be for them. Thorin was sure that he had turned bright red the longer she had talked before managing some incoherent sentences about how nice that idea sounded and that he would ask Bilbo and Frodo and that the children were really sweet indeed, weren’t they?

“Don’t worry”, he hurried to tell Frodo before he blushed even more at the sheer memory. “You can stay with the Gamgees as soon as you’re better.”

“It’s not that.” Frodo hesitated. “I know that you and uncle Bilbo wanted to celebrate, but now I’m sick, and you can’t.” He sniffed. “I’m sorry for being sick.”

“Oh _ibinê_.” Thorin patted his back, drawing the little hobbit closer to him. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s just a date in the calendar, after all. Besides, we’re happy to spend our anniversary with you.”

Another sniff. “But I know what you’ve crafted for uncle Bilbo.”

For a moment Thorin stopped the caresses, caught by surprise. Then he chuckled softly. “I should have known that your eyes are too keen to be deceived. What gave me away?”

“The last time we visited you in the forge, you were quickly hiding something, and you were blushing”, Frodo mumbled into his shirt. “But don’t worry, uncle Bilbo didn’t see anything.”

“And how did _you_ know that I was crafting something for him, and that I wanted to give it to him on our anniversary?”

Now Frodo drew back a little and gave him a look that made clear what an unnecessary question that was. He still frowned, however, and Thorin gently brought their foreheads together.

“Don’t worry about it, little gem”, he comforted him once more. “It’s true that I wanted to give this gift to your uncle today. And I want to tell him that I always want to stay with him. But, you know, that doesn’t have to be during a moonlight walk, a dinner, or on our anniversary.”

“Why do you want to tell him anyway? Of course you will always stay together. It’s _obvious_.” Frodo looked as if he was about to roll his eyes, but another sneeze stopped him from doing so.

“I want to tell him nonetheless”, the dwarf replied after he had given him a handkerchief. “You see, it’s important to tell your loved ones how much you care about them. It always makes me happy when your uncle tells me, and I want to make him happy in turn. Which also reminds me … Have I told _you_ how much I adore you today already, _ibinê_? Because I do adore you. Very much.”

To his delight, Frodo giggled. “You’re right – it is nice to hear such a thing!”

“Of course I’m right! That’s why your uncle Bilbo –”

“Hey, are you talking about me?”

Bilbo entered the room, carrying a bowl of soup as well as a plate with scones. He looked fondly at them, but Thorin almost flinched. Just because he wanted to present his gift to Bilbo, he didn’t want the hobbit to learn about it by accident.

“Have you been eavesdropping?”, he asked as innocently as he could.

“Just a little”, Bilbo laughed. “It’s good to see that both of you are feeling well enough to gossip. I hope you’re also feeling well enough for some soup, Frodo.”

The little hobbit nodded, and he shifted to sit on Thorin’s lap. The dwarf put his hand on his back to steady him, and Bilbo held out spoons full of soup to him. At first Frodo protested about being fed like a tiny child, but he showed no effort to take the spoon himself. He seemed to quite enjoy being spoiled like this.

He managed to eat more than half of the soup and a whole scone before declaring that he wasn’t hungry anymore. His nose was still red and his dark curls were tousled, but apart from that he looked as content as any well-fed hobbit now. With a big yawn, he let himself fall back into the pillows. “Tired”, he mumbled before yawning again.

“Then sleep a bit”, Thorin said softly and tucked him in. “If you need anything, just call, okay? We won’t be far away.” Bilbo bent down to press a kiss to Frodo’s forehead, and together they left the room and quietly closed the door behind them.

The hobbit carried the bowl and the plate with scones into the kitchen, and Thorin followed him, taking in the scent of roasted vegetables and grilled fish.

“A few more minutes until lunch’s ready”, Bilbo chuckled as he put the dishes away. “That’s quite convenient since I wanted to speak to you.” He turned away from the sideboard, grabbed Thorin’s braid and pulled him into a deep kiss.

“ _Givashel_ ”, Thorin mumbled breathlessly against his lips, “I thought you were talking about lunch, not dessert …”

“Oh, you.” Bilbo gave him another kiss. “I have to admit … I heard more of your talk with Frodo than I said.” After a moment of pausing, he added: “I heard you speaking about the gift.”

“I … I see.” Thorin put on a smile, trying to cover his sudden bashfulness. “It’s a pity that it won’t be a surprise, but I hope you will still like it.”

“Thorin”, Bilbo said, his voice quiet, “have you noticed that I haven’t had my hair cut for some while now?”

“I … have.” His silken curls were touching his shoulders by now. He reached for them, and he could feel the light shudder that ran through Bilbo as his fingers grazed his neck. “I was wondering if I could take it as a sign …”

“Of course you can.” Bilbo tilted his head. “I know a thing or two about courtship amongst dwarves, and I decided to let it grow. I was hoping that it would be long enough today … for you to put a bead in it.” A fond smile appeared on his face. “Your gift is a bead, isn’t it?”

“It is.” Thorin returned his hobbit’s smile. “Bilbo Baggins, will you allow me to braid your hair?”

“I will.”

“And will you allow me to put my bead in it?”

“I will.”

“And …” Thorin took a step closer and wrapped his hands around Bilbo’s waist. “Will you be my husband?”

Now Bilbo’s words were mingled with laughter. “Of course I will!” To affirm his words, he tiptoed and grazed a sweet kiss to Thorin’s lips. “But first”, he mumbled eventually, “it’s time for lunch. If I would let you braid my hair now, the food would definitely burn. Besides, cooking a good meal for someone is a hobbit’s way to say ‘I love you’. And”, Bilbo said while ushering Thorin into a chair at the kitchen table, “I love you. Very very much.”

 

***

 

It was late afternoon when Frodo woke up. He sniffled a bit, but he felt much better; his head didn’t feel as if it was stuffed with cotton any longer. He was thirsty, though, and sat up to get the glass of water on the bedside table. It was only half full, however, and therefore not enough to quench his thirst completely. For a moment he considered calling one of his uncles, but then he decided to get more to drink by himself.

He climbed out of bed and padded into the kitchen. He didn’t meet anyone on his way there, Bag End was quiet. On his way back into his room – now carrying a full glass of water as well as one of the scones uncle Bilbo had made – he cast a glance into the parlour.

His uncles were napping on the couch. Bilbo’s head rested in Thorin’s lap, and the dwarf’s fingers were tangled in his curls. They had been caressing the new braid that was woven into Bilbo’s hair, and a fragile piece of metal was clasped around it; it gleamed in the sunlight.

Frodo shook his head as he watched them, but with a little smile tugging at his lips. “Obvious”, he mumbled before he returned into his room.


End file.
